Something There
by hermygirl-14
Summary: Bad things happen. This is a fact Hermione is trying to live with, but loss and regret still haunt her dreams. When a visitor arrives and asks her for a startling favor, she must find a way to vanquish those feelings. After all, evil never rests.
1. The Beginning

_Here's my crack at Draco/Hermione. It's post-DH, so post epilogue as well… I'll explain more on about what happened between then and now throughout the story. Hope you like, thanks for reading and please review!_

_These characters are all the wonderful work of J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for the time being… _

Chapter 1- The Beginning

I had thought the war was over. I had thought the pain was gone. I had thought all of the losses had been counted. But I suppose evil never rests does it? I had known that taking the job, becoming an Auror, was dangerous work, but we had all made it through so much together. I never let myself believe something could tear us a part, something that was so small compared to everything we've been up against.

But here I sit, awake on a stormy night, near 2 a.m. I keep glancing over to my left, thinking I might see him again. It's been this way for months. Hugo still awakes at night screaming for him, screaming for Dad. It pains me to hear his shrill voice, gasping from his nightmares. Rose hasn't said much; she tries to hide her grief, for my sake. But I know she misses him, I can see the tears behind her eyes.

I've tried to busy myself, like all of the books about coping say. I can't run from the night though. I can't run or hide from the ache I feel ever night when I lay in bed, alone, with nothing to busy my mind. It's the worst at night, so empty, so cold.

I miss him more than words could ever say. I miss our heated arguments and our passionate apologizes. I miss his laugh, his lop-sized grin, and his powerful hugs. I try to be strong though, for them. If it wasn't for them, I would be broken completely. I've found comfort in them, in Rose's familiar expressions and Hugo's ability to make me smile no matter how much I want to cry.

They constantly remind me of what we had, and what we brought into this world. And I will do anything for them. It's my job now to protect them, for the both of us.

_Meanwhile…._

Years ago I would have gotten pleasure from their grief. I would have laughed at their misfortune. This time it was different. The war was supposed to be over. It started slow, but Dumbledore got his wish. Perhaps I have switched sides after all.

After he was born, I couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilty for everything. I did not want to be the father I had. I never wanted to thrust such a horrid world on my son. And after Astoria was taken, I was his only hope.

Back at Hogwarts I felt prideful of my father's connections and powers, but now I wish they'd disappear. I wish he'd disappear. He had finally gone too far. Years after the Dark Lord had been destroyed, evil still remained, an evil that I'm ashamed of. I knew what they were planning, just as I knew that the ideas of the Dark Lord would never truly vanish. My father had gotten to me again. Their source of power was building, their need for revenge was unnerving. That night, when Father came home, my son asked him where he had been. He had responded with a sly smile, "Starting up where we left off, my boy." The moment I saw Scorpius looking at him with bright, curious eyes, I knew something had to change. My father had patted my back, and told me I missed a good show. Scorpius looked at me and smiled, he told me next time, he wanted to go too.

I would do anything to keep him from that treachery. So that is why I am here, on this stormy night, waiting for someone I wished never to see again.

The house I stood in front of was dark, but that was to be expected at 2 in the morning. I'd have to find a way to wake her up. There had to be protection charms all over that could serve my need. Gryffindors may be brave, but they aren't stupid, at least not this one.

I take a step firmly on the stone path ahead of me. Just like clockwork, a light bursts from the upstairs window. I see her shadow moving fiercely throughout the room. She nears the window and the curtain peels away. I know she can see me; my hair stands out in the darkness. I can't make out her expression, and in an instant, she is gone.

I take a deep breath, hoping she'll let the past go… at least for him. I continue to the door, completely set on ringing the bell when I hear the bolts unlocking from behind. Light spills outside, blinding me temporarily. I have to hold my hand over my face to regain focus. "Blimey, Granger, you could warn a bloke." I shout, not being able to control the glare that flies in her direction.

She snorts with cruel laughter. After a few moments, I'm able to see her. She was clearly annoyed. Her messy hair proved she was in bed, but the dark circles under her eyes tell me that she hasn't been sleeping. Neither have I. For different reasons.

"You better have a bloody well good reason for showing up here, Malfoy." She sneered. Her wand was at the ready in front of her; while the other was clamped on the door, ready to slam it in my face. I stare at her wand and the vicious look in her eyes for what seems like minutes, unsure if I should actually ask this woman for a favor.

She grows annoyed, raising an eyebrow and her wand at the same time. Quite impressive, really. "I suggest you explain yourself." She speaks through clenched teeth.


	2. The Request

_I had tons of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for reading and please review! :D  
I do not own anything Harry Potter related. I just love having fun with the world and the characters._

_Draco's POV:_

"Is that any way to greet an old friend, Granger?" I say coolly, unable to hide the slow smirk unraveling across my face. If possible, her eyebrow rises even higher. Her stare is full of confusion, though I know she is trying hard to keep up her guard.

"I'm afraid you're unclear about the term friends, Malfoy. Old friends do not try and kill each other, and they certainly do not show up at one another's homes before the crack of dawn." She half-scolded this, her wand still pointing in my direction.

"Still have your priorities straight, I see." I mutter under my breath. We stand in silence for a few moments, her face sat rigid, only taking her eyes off me for a second to scan the darkness. I roll my eyes, not in the mood for charades. "Damnit Granger, put down the wand. You have no enemies here."

She laughs coldly again, my eyes narrow when I hear it, almost disbelieving the sound. Yes, it had been years since I heard her laugh. At Hogwarts, she was always smiling and laughing. Her optimism was one of the things I had hated most about her. But like so many, time had taken a toll on her; the war, the reconstruction, and of course, the death.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken again, Malfoy. Now, what do you want?" She asks, dragging out each syllable in her questioning. Her words contradict her actions as she loosens the grip on her wand.

I take this as a sign of resignation, and decide to probe further. "I must say, it's a bit chilly out here. Mind if we take this matter inside? The rain isn't doing much for my physique, nor yours." I see in her eyes that she is weighing my request. Her wand hand lowers ever so slightly.

"You haven't changed much, have you? Still believe the world revolves around your every want and need." She says to no one in particular.

"Is that a yes?" I survey, clasping my hands behind on my back.

She glares at me, clearly wishing I would disappear. Perhaps this would be more difficult than I originally thought. "Yes, but only for a moment. And only because I have a soft spot for animals, and you're beginning to look like a wet dog."

I merely nod curtly at her response. "As are you, Granger, as are you." She stares at me incredulously as I brush past her into the house. It was quite bold on my part, as she still stood with a wand in her hand. I suppose old habits die-hard.

Her house was brightly lit thanks to a few muggle contraptions hanging from the ceiling. I stalk through the corridor, past the staircase, into a living room. I chuckle under my breath; it seems one part of her hasn't changed since those school years. Along the back wall stand four large build-in bookshelves, stuffed to the brim with every type of binding. Many look worn and used.

"Yes, feel free to look around, Malfoy. Be my guest." Granger states from behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her shrug soundlessly, her hands planted on her hips.

"Still a know-it-all then?" I ask, not expecting an answer.

"I still appreciate a good book if that's what you're referring too. And please keep your voice down, some people are sleeping." Her patience is wearing thin, but I still am not sure how to say what I must. I let my fingers scan across several of the titles. I recognize all but one.

"_La Belle et la Bête,_" I say with a smirk, pulling the book from its place. The cloth cover was fraying. I open it, and flip through the tattered pages. "Beauty and the Beast?"

Before I can finish turning in her direction, Granger is standing next to me, her eyes on fire. "I'll ask you to stop poking around in business that is not yours." She rips the book from my hands, and cradles it in her arm.

"Oh, I forgot, you were always good at that. Then again, the golden trio could do no wrong." My words sound bitter even to me. But it is difficult, even now, to find a liking in these three. After all, we were always on opposite sides.

Granger tucks a strand of hair behind her ear in hesitation. It looks as though she has something to say, but she is holding back. Very un-Granger-like. I am tired of the small talk, so I look around again, trying to find a way into why I am here. Past the couch, the end table, even the mirror on the wall, my eyes land on the fireplace. It is there that my weapon sits.

_Hermione's POV:_

For the life of me, I cannot understand why or how Draco Malfoy is standing in my living room. He hasn't changed. Even years later, his ego is still the size of a hippogriff. He walks around the house in his crisp black suit as if he was invited, as if he was a welcomed guest. Each glance he takes causes my stomach to jump, as I am still unsure of what he wants and why he's here.

I see his eyes zone in on something near the fireplace. For a moment, I wonder if this man before me is still the same traitorous villain I knew all those years ago. I wonder if something awful is about to fly from the fireplace, the same evil that also caught Ron by surprise. I stand there, one hand gripping my wand, the other clutching the book to my chest.

As he takes a few graceful steps closer, I see his eyes are not focused on the fire itself, but the frames positioned atop the flames. They lay scattered around the brick shelf, my prized possessions fully exposed for all to see. My family.

Malfoy's pale fingers wrap around one of the wooden frames. A breath catches in my throat, knowing exactly which picture he has chosen. He stares silently at our smiling faces. I had been sitting, reading to Rose and Hugo when Ron shoved the camera into our faces. Rose, seemingly put out by the interruption refused to smile. Her little brother had the fantastic idea to tickle her until she broke. Ron was no genius when it came to the camera, but he did caption a wonderful shot. We all lay in a ball on the floor, laughing and smiling up at him…

"What are their names?" Malfoy asks, breaking me out of my memory. He had turned towards me, still staring at the picture.

"Rose and Hugo," I say cautiously as I take a step forward, ready to take the frame from his outstretched arms. Just as I do this, he gazes at me, a disgruntled look on his face. "What?"

He shakes his head, tutting softly. "Hugo? Poor kid."

"It's a family name!" I splutter defensively. "It happens to have a distant meaning. Heart, spirit and mind." I ramble, somewhat in a scripted manner.

"How very Gryffindor of you," Malfoy muttered shortly. I was about to rip the picture from his hands as well when he spun back around to set it atop the fire again. "I have one of my own, as you well know." He spoke, his tone changing. All joke and cruelty left his voice.

"I know. He is Rose's age." I answer, crossing my arms.

"Yes, I believe he is. He's the reason I'm here, Granger." Malfoy slowly meets my gaze. Confusion surely is covering my face now. The seriousness that lay in his grey eyes only spurs it on. "I have a favor to ask you. And being the brave and noble Gryffindor you are you'll accept it." He states, his tone not demanding, but rather just determined.

I blink. Before I can help it, I feel the words escape from my lips, "You can't actually believe you can just waltz in here asking for favors at the drop of a hat. Are you mental?"

"I don't believe so. No." He moves to match my stance, crossing his arms in front of him.

"And what could I possibly be able to do for the Prince of Slytherin? Get you into the Ministry? Brew some polyjuice potion?" I mock.

He shakes his head. "This is a bit more extensive and prolonged than polyjuice." I notice he forgets to boast about his well-established knowledge of the potion, an odd behavior change from the cocky individual that taunted me earlier.

"No." I say simply. His eyebrow rises with mild annoyance. "Any favor for you that takes longer than a month is probably either illegal or completely against moral codes. So that answer is no. I'm sure you can find someone else." I try not to meet his eyes, afraid of the fierceness they were displaying moments before.

I turn with a deep breath to put the book back on the shelf. My hope is that he will take the answer with a grain of salt, and leave. Obviously my hopes are quickly dashed. "If there was anyone else, do you honestly believe I'd be here? I need someone to… trust." He speaks slowly.

My eyes close as I laugh at him, a sort of laughter that bubbles up from my throat. The irony was far too much. I know he is probably looking at me with curious eyes, but I cannot help myself. "Now that is a thought, a Malfoy trusting me? What your cronies would think now…"

"Doesn't matter," He spits out, for the first time his voice is genuinely cold. He gestures harshly at the picture of Rose and Hugo. "They mean the world to you. Scorpius is everything to me. I could care less what those low lives I called my friends think. All that matters is his safety. Can you do that, Granger?"

I shake my head, taken back by his harshness and his question. "What are you asking, Malfoy?" I take a few steps back, nervous that I know exactly where this conversation is going.

"You have a big house. I'm sure you could spare a bedroom." His eyes continue to stare at me, examining my reaction. My stomach falls. Before I can protest, he follows my movements, taking too many steps closer. Only a few inches apart, he whispers, "We both know something is happening, Granger. Whatever killed Weasley, has taken hold of Astoria." The thought of Ron and that horrible night sends shivers down my spine. I close my eyes, to shake them away.

"I will not put my children in danger-"

"Stop with the heroic antics. You know as well as I do that no one will suspect my son to be residing in the home of a Mudbl-" He pauses, his lips narrowing, "A muggle-born." He says with more difficulty. "No one will come looking for him, not for some time."

"You're not making a great deal of sense. Why can't he stay with you? Where is Astoria? If I'm to be expected to care for an ex-Death Eater's –and I use that term loosely- son, I need more information." I say, biding myself time to think, to process.

"You're being difficult, Granger." He sneers.

"You're being vague, Malfoy." I retort, throwing my hands to my hips again; hoping that my stance is more menacing and severe than I actually feel. "I need details, that much about me you should remember."

Malfoy continues to sneer in my direction. I motion for him to take a seat on the soft, maroon colored chair next to him. He glances at it for a second, before resigning to my request. As he sits, I swear I see the corner of his lips rise slightly. But Malfoy doesn't smile, especially not to anything I were to say.


	3. The Reason

_Draco's POV-_

I feel as though I'm sinking to a new low as I sit in her maroon chair. What a ghastly color it is. As I sit, she swallows more than necessary and glances behind her towards the staircase, worriedly. Her face is taut, but her eyes betray her. They fill up with a sense of uncertainty and confusion. Two emotions rarely seen in Hermione Granger. A small part of me feels prideful. Even after so many years, I can still make Granger nervous. Perhaps she's afraid her children will wake or, she could always be waiting for Potter to appear and save her. It wouldn't be the first time.

I want to wait until she is seated; it is the polite thing to do after all. But she is too stubborn, and clearly rethinking her invitation. "Putus Populus." I say in an even tone. Her eyes crinkle, the confusion leaves only to be replaced with intrigue.

"What…" She starts.

I interrupt her before she can ask me anything. "Pure people. I doubt you've heard of them, they aren't as… boisterous as others. They are here though, and angry. The rebuilding of the wizarding world did not make everyone happy, Granger, as I'm sure you're aware."

She stares at me as these words escape from my mouth. I want to tell her as little as I possibly can. She'll ask questions, that I know. I can see her mind at work already. "Pure people…" She mumbles to herself. She's still standing, but her hand falls to the couch arm, as if to hold herself up.

"Yes. I suppose you could call them rouge ex-Death Eaters." I say, being sure to enunciate the last two words. Those words still strike terror in the wizards and witches around the world. That terror could work to my advantage.

She raises her eyebrows at me, a response I am not ready to receive. Her tone is bittersweet, dripping heavily with sarcasm. "And what are you? If I remember correctly you also had a distasteful inking on your left arm."

Her smug response sent anger through me. These men I would not be allied with. These men are nothing like me, or my son. "Some people change. Some people change sides. Maybe a little late in the game, but they do. These men are the worst of the worst, Granger. You'll be smart to remember that." She scoffed half-heartedly, with uncertainty in her eyes. "These men are the ones who felt mistreated after the Dark Lord's reign-"

"He never reigned over anything. He wasn't enough of a man for that." She snaps. Touché.

"Either way, once the Dark Lord fell, they were forced to follow suit: Azkaban, demotion, endless trials and humiliation. And many did not get a say in the lives they now live."

"Welcome to the club." I hear her say under her breath. Her arms are now crossed in front of her again. And she still hasn't taken a seat next to me. The thought that this may not work rushes through my mind.

"They're ready to take control again, politically. The re-election for Minister of Magic is this year, and they are set to capture it." This information breaks through Hermione's tense physique. I can see a light flash across her eyes as this idea sinks in. The Minister of Magic, the highest power job in the Wizarding World, in the hands of a rouge Death Eater? "I don't know who they've chosen yet." I say, knowing she's about to ask me the same question.

"How do you know all of this?" She questions as she sits on the arm of the couch, leaning as far from me as she can. She throws a worried glance towards the staircase again. I can see the regenerated fear in her eyes.

"I told you, Astoria has gotten herself mixed up in it. They've taken her, where I can't be sure. But my father will know. I need to find him. That's where you come in." I say these words in more of a rush than I had intended. I hadn't wanted to show emotion, it was never a good persuasion technique, especially for me. Perhaps, Granger may be the exception. She was a very emotional person at times. She was a woman after all. "I need someone I can trust. Someone I know would never veer into the path of Putus Populus. You seem like a good bet."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Her sarcasm tonight was more pronounced that I had remembered. After everything has happened, I suppose that is a good thing, she still has a bit of fight left in her. "I will not be mixed up in this. You will be better off going to the ministry." She resigns.

"As I said before, if I could, I would. You're not exactly the person I'd want to entrust my son to, Granger. I'm just as on edge about this as you are. It was you, Potter, or Longbottom. I thought you'd be more the empathic of the three." With the mention of Potter, she leaned closer for a moment. I hadn't wanted to bring him or Longbottom into the mix, but she wasn't understanding the vastness of these people. They are everywhere it seems. If they can take Astoria, someone who has been so anxious and careful since the world, practically no one can be trusted.

"How can I trust you?" She asks. Her eyes bore into mine. I feel myself tense. The question I had feared, how could she trust me? Trust was something that had to be earned, which I've never been good at. I try to stare back at her, within holding these thoughts as much as I can. I slide my hands to my knees, coming inches closer to her. The look in her eyes tells me she wants to trust in me, needs to trust in something.

"I'm giving you the only thing that matters to me, Granger."

_Hermione's POV-_

If someone had told me I would be staring into Draco Malfoy's cold grey eyes tonight, I would have laughed in their face. I can't help myself. His story seems plausible, but he could simply be a good liar. It may be old prejudices resurfacing, but something keeps telling me to never trust a Slytherin. Not just any Slytherin, but the Slytherin Prince. A known Death Eater.

But here I am, sitting only inches from him, his eyes serious, and almost sad as he gives me the one and only reason why I should trust him. He doesn't blink, or look away, but stares directly at me. For the first time, I see, Draco Malfoy is human. A messed up, human with a sad past.

"Okay." I hear myself say. My mouth moves on its own accord, not listening to the logical argument for making a deal with him. It could backfire; it could leave me with a world more hurt than I already have. And it will definitely add to the gnawing ache in my stomach. But none of that matters when Malfoy says these words to me. Simple words, but full of truth and pain.

Pain. Too much pain. I'd do anything to rid of it.

His head tilts to one side, and his lips purse in disbelief. "Really?"

I nod, glancing up towards the staircase that leads to my sleeping children. "Yes. But there will be some conditions. I will have wards placed on these grounds. You won't be able to visit without notice, for both of our sakes. More so mine. And Scorpius will go to Hogwarts just as scheduled in September, right?"

He smirks. I've seen that smirk so many times before. There is something different about it tonight. It is more… playful? "Yes, you should have more confidence in my tracking abilities than that, Granger. I found you didn't I? I'm sure I can find my own wife in 3 months."

"So, it's settled." I finish lamely, hoping I'm not blushing from his change in tone.

"Mum?" I hear a small voice say from behind Malfoy. Her red hair gives away her location, as Rose peers through the stair railing, her eyes squinting to see from her sleepy eyes. "What… Who?" She starts.

Malfoy stands quickly, after hearing her words. "Well, Granger, I'll be going now. I'll be here in two days. We can discuss more than." His tone is more formal, unsure of how much Rose had heard. I stand soon after, struggling to keep my voice strong with my curious daughter's eyes on me.

"Very well then. Goodnight Mr. Malfoy."

He raises his eyebrow. A small smirk plays on his lips and he says slowly. "Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley."


	4. The Boy

_Hermione's POV-_

I spend much of the next two days busying myself around the house. I stock up on groceries, make up the spare bedroom, and organize the downstairs. There won't be a speck of dirt left when Scorpius arrives. It isn't so much for his benefit but for mine. His arrival gives me an excuse to be busy; I have less time to think about my nightmares and more time to worry if this was a bad decision.

There is no going back. I highly doubt there would be an easy way to contact Malfoy now, even if I did change my mind. He would ignore it, and simply show up with the little boy.

Rose was the hardest to explain this new transition to. Ron had spent hours telling her stories of our adventures at Hogwarts, most of which portrayed the horrible Draco Malfoy as our most hated enemy. Most of these stories were true, but with a few exaggerations. Either way, Rose had eaten them up. And now, without Ron here to help, there was no way for me to counter her hatred for Malfoy. It doesn't help that Gryffindors and Slytherins are still rivals at school. Now Rose has her own Malfoy problem at Hogwarts, and I've just invited it to live with us.

Needless to say, she is not happy with me.

By seven in the evening, my children and I are restless. I sit with Hugo on my lap, thumbing through _The Tale of Beedle the Bard_. Every few moments I find myself raising my head to peer out the window. Malfoy surely likes to make an entrance.

Our dinner sits on the table, probably cold by now. I had hoped to dine with the Malfoys, for Scorpius' sake. But Malfoy must have other ideas.

"Well he's being rude if you ask me." Rose pipes up from behind her spell book.

"Maybe they won't show up. Or he forgot!" Hugo answers, with a hopeful expression. He glances up at me and I smile.

Rose rolls her eyes and grumbles, "We can only hope." She ignores my disapproving stare and carries on with her reading. Only minutes after this do the bells chimes throughout the house. We all jump out of our seats in both excitement and anxiety. The clanging continues for a few more seconds, as we rush to the front door. With Hugo at my heels and Rose only inches in front of me, I feel a sudden sense of nervousness again. Was this a mistake? Was this too much for them to handle?

Rose stands on her tiptoes, trying to see out the window beside the door. Hugo is still by my side. I run my hand through his hair, "Ready?" With little hesitation, they both nod. My hand moves to grasp the doorknob. I turn it slowly, taking a deep breath as I do so.

To say the apple didn't fall far from the tree was an understatement. My breath catches in my throat as I am face to face with Malfoy today and Malfoy some 20 years ago. They stand calm and collected, staring stoically at my family; both dressed in black robes that balance out their very blond hair. Scorpius is just as tall as Rose, perhaps a few inches more. He held a small suitcase in his hand, and a large trunk lay at his feet.

"Good evening, Weasleys," Malfoy says, his voice surprisingly civil.

I smile, as I always do when I hear my family name. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy, Scorpius, we've been expecting you. Why don't you come in?" I step to the side, towards a disgruntled Rose, her arms folded across her chest, and gesture them inside. Hugo follows closely behind me, his hand gripping my shirt.

Malfoy nods in my direction and walks gracefully into the parlor. Scorpius trudges after him, scrapping his feet against the wood floor. He does not seem nervous, anxious or fretful, but almost rather bored. He keeps glancing towards his father, trying to mirror his calm demeanor.

Once we're all five in the parlor near the kitchen, the true awkwardness of the situation can begin. Malfoy places his hand on Scorpius' back getting his attention. "Scorpius this the woman I told you about." His tone is softer than I remember from his last visit. Scorpius gazes up at me through curious, unmasked eyes.

"You can call me Hermione." I say quickly, unsure where else to go. I let my hand fall on Hugo's red hair, ruffling it gently. "This is my son Hugo, and my daughter Rose, who I believe you already know." Rose rolls her eyes when Scorpius looks her way. His eyebrow raises, not unlike his father's tend to do.

"So it is true." He mumbles with slight disappointment in his voice. "I have to live with Weasleys for the summer."

Hiding my annoyance at his tone, I continue. "We are excited to have you, Scorpius. You're more than welcome here while your father's away. We have a room set up for you near Hugo upstairs, and more than enough space to share." I say, earning a scoff from Rose.

"Mum wouldn't like this." He pronounces, glancing up at his father still disbelieving. I don't know what I had been expecting from this first encounter, but it hadn't been this. With a pointed look from his father, he adds, "But thank you."

"You'll have to share the room with Scuffles." Rose says matter-of-factly and adds for clarity, "Our cat."

With an exasperated look at his father, Scorpius whines, "I have to share a room with a cat?"

Before either Malfoy or I could respond, Rose takes it upon herself. "He's really quite friendly if you're a decent human being. Then again… maybe you should room with Hugo."

Hugo stares at Scorpius from behind my frame. I cannot see his expression, but I'm sure he's terrified of the idea of sharing. Ron had spoiled both Rose and Hugo from the time they were born. He had to share so much, and had so little, he tended to overcompensate with our children.

"Scuffles can stay with Rose." I interrupt, saving Scorpius from answering. "You'll have the room to yourself. Rose, why don't you show Scorpius up to his room then? You can drop off his belongings and come back down. Your bag must be getting heavy."

"Oh, can I?" I hear Rose mutter, but she turns swiftly to march up the stairs. Scorpius' shoulders fall and he shakes his head. With a gentle push from his father, he follows her. Hugo eyes the stairs, weighing the choices. Before long his curiosity wins, and he's racing up the steps after them.

"That went well." Malfoy states, sarcasm playing on his voice.

"Better than I expected." I say, wishing for something wittier. "It will be an interesting summer. I'm sorry about how Rose treated Scorpius; she definitely is Ron's daughter."

Malfoy's eyebrow raises and I wait for some inappropriate comment. "Was there ever any question? My, my Granger, maybe you've changed more than I thought."

"And there you are being rude again. I take back my apology." I retort, crossing my arms over my chest. The noise that comes from upstairs grabs my attention. I make a move towards them, ready to break up any fight that is starting when Malfoy reaches out and takes hold of my arm.

I turn to glare at him, but before I can, he drops his hold and steps back as if burned. "They're fine. They'll have to get used to each other one way or another. I'm sure Rose can hold her own." He states firmly. Stealing a glance back up the stairway, I mumble, "It's not her I'm worried about."

This, surprisingly, gives Malfoy a chuckle. "She seems to hate us, doesn't she? Like mother, like daughter." He adds as an afterthought. He finds his way towards the kitchen door, his eyes traveling throughout the room. His judgment is evident, probably wondering why anyone like us would choose live with so many muggle tendencies.

My eyes narrow as old feelings flame up inside of me. Suddenly I can't believe I've let him into my house, into my life. He may have a son now, but nothing has really changed. We're still the same people from Hogwarts, enemies from the start. "I had reason to hate you, as did many others. I can't understand why anyone would work so hard to create such feelings."

"I don't mind being hated, Granger. When you've been where I have, it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of you." Malfoy says calmly, his hands behind his back and he takes a step further into the kitchen. He locates the light switch and gestures towards it questioningly.

I strut past him and flip it on. I feel the need to defend myself, but Malfoy doesn't say anything in return, only nods. "Where will you be going?" I ask for lack of something else to say. I am only mildly interested in where he'll begin his search.

"It's probably better if you don't know." He says simply.

"You don't even have a plan do you?" I mock, "I thought you were so very good at tracking?"

"I am, and I have a plan. But you can't be involved in it. If anything happens, I'd prefer if Scorpius weren't put into danger by what you know." By now, he's made it near the refrigerator, his face scrunches up slightly in confusion.

Frustrated, I brush past him again and open the door. "It keeps food cold. Now what is this about danger? Where do your parents believe Scorpius is?" I say in a rush.

"My mother thinks Scorpius is being sent to a boarding school in France. No one should bother you here. You know you could just use a freezing charm. Muggles, honestly." And there it was, his annoyance seeps through.

"They're useful." I defend.

"For muggles. You can put your skills to better use without them," Malfoy states. Although I can't understand where it came from, a compliment hides in that bitter tone.

I try to ignore his comment, somewhat confused by the meaning and call up to the children; before I can get the last word out, Scorpius races down towards his father, Rose and Hugo not far behind. Rose is rolling her eyes, and Hugo is grinning.

"We have a problem." Scorpius says, clearly disturbed. Malfoy glances at me for an answer, but I simply shake my head and glare at the two smiling redheads standing in the doorway. Scorpius gulps, takes a deep breath. "They're Cannons fans."

_Draco's POV-_

As soon as the words of terror fall from Scopius' mouth, Granger bursts out laughing. It is the first time I have heard her laugh whole-heartedly since Hogwarts. I had thought she was only capable of the cold laughter I heard a few days ago. Somehow, even with the newly formed worry lines and the messy chestnut hair falling in front of her face, she resembles the girl I once knew. I can feel a smirk threatening to show on my lips as I think of the irony of this change. Scorpius has turned and is glaring at Granger, he is not used to being laughed at.

"Only a few of us," She manages to explain through short breaths. "I'm sorry if you don't like the color orange. Ron decorated that room." By now, Rose and Hugo have also began to giggle. Rose is staring at Scorpius seemingly elated.

"I don't find it funny. " He says with complete seriousness in his tone. "The Cannons are hardly a team anymore; they haven't won in years." When the Weasley's smiles fail to leave their faces, he glances back towards me.

I try to keep a straight face, and agree with him. "The Cannons are rotten. But Weasley always had horrid taste," I feel Granger's glare, but my comment does the job and the laughter ceases. "You'll have to ignore it."

At the mention of her dad, Rose snaps. "Malfoy can't ignore. His head is too big for that."

"Better a big head than a big mouth." Scorpius retorts, his hands balling into fists as he speaks. "At least mine's gotten me top of our class."

"Oh please," Rose mutters. "You've only got on top becau-". Granger quickly puts her hand in front of her daughter's mouth, who grumbles in response.

"That will be enough Rose. Did you have dinner Scorpius?" Scorpius, still disgruntled by Rose, mumbles a no. "Perfect, we have dinner waiting on the table if you'd like…" Granger offers.

I nod when Scorpius turns to ask my permission. "Go on, Hugo can take you."

In hearing his name, specifically because I said it, Hugo jumps. He stares at me with cautious eyes and begins slowly, "Okay."

Rose sighs with exasperation and pulls on Hugo's arm, leading him towards the table. "Come on, it's roast beef and potatoes. Probably cold, but that's easily fixed." The three of them walk sourly past, leaving Granger and I alone. She watches them closely, with a slight smile on her face.

"You're going to have your hands full." I say, breaking her out of her ravine. "That reminds me…" I trail off, pulling open my jacket's right side. I grab an envelope from my pocket. "It should be enough to get you through the next few weeks."

I set down the plump full, blank envelope on the counter, and slide it towards her. She stares at it for several moments, weighing her options. Then slowly she reaches for it, only to push back to me. "I don't need your money, Malfoy. I'm doing fine on my own." She explains her eyes firmly on mine.

"You have an extra mouth to feed. Take it." I say sharply, and push it back towards her.

"No." She gives me a mocking smile. Her stubbornness is more frustrating now than I remember. Years of living with Weasley had made her worse. She turns her back to me, and grabs a glass from the cupboard behind her.

I glare at the back of her head and grit my teeth. "Scorpius has a bit more extensive tastes than you might be used to. And I'd prefer for my child not to be just skin and bones when I see him again."

Filling her cup with water, she glances over her shoulder. "I have money, Malfoy. Your son will be well cared for; if you didn't believe that, you wouldn't have brought him here. Now shall we talk about more important things, or would you rather sit here and argue for a while longer?" She looks at me expectantly, awaiting an answer and adds, "Honestly, either works for me."

Her words say one thing, but once again, her actions describe another. The envelope in question is still sitting on the counter, only a few inches from her fingers. There is no reason to continue quarreling, for there is too little time for something so wasteful. I know as well as she does that the envelope is not leaving with me. Instead of voicing this I response in a rather bored manner, "There is nothing more to discuss. I'll be leaving tonight; I've already explained to Scorpius everything he needs to know."

"Does he have a way to contact you?" She asks, before taking a sip from her cup.

"You own an owl, do you not? Or have you succumb to those ruddy telephone contraptions?"

She rolls her eyes, just as her daughter no doubtable would have, and states, "Of course we have an owl. He's getting a little old, but he'll get the job done."

"Very well," I nod in return. "When I write, they will be addressed to you. And likewise, when you or Scorpius write, the letters should be signed by you. That way, in case there are any problems during the exchange, Scorpius' location will not be easily determined." She agrees.

"You believe they're reading letters? They can't be that paranoid, or powerful." She questions, her eyes bright with intrigue. It was odd, being the one with the answers for once. Here was one topic I knew more about; I had wished for a moment like this many times back at school all those years ago.

"They may be. I wouldn't underestimate them, Granger. With the little information I've been able to come by, it's impossible to know who to trust. Hence my presence here." I glance over towards my son. His was expression grim as he picked apart the meal on his plate. "I suppose I should make my exit."

Granger follows my gaze; I can see a look of pity fall across her face. "You could stay a bit longer, if you wish to." She says, surprisingly me slightly.

I almost accept her proposal, unwilling to leave Scorpius so soon. But it would be easier this way, get the goodbyes over quickly, like a bandage. I shake my head, unable to say or do more, I move towards the dining room table. "How is your dinner?"

Scorpius' head shoots up from the table at the sound of my voice. I kneel down, so we are face to face. He shrugs, knowing full well what must come next. Rose and Hugo's gazes continually flicker from Scorpius to me.

"I believe you're in good hands here. I expect you to do as I told you earlier. This is a very nice thing she is doing, so you must be respectful of Mrs. Weasley." I say the last sentence slowly, feeling Granger's eyes on me. "If there is anything the matter, you can use their owl, but you must listen to her."

Scorpius nods, "I know."

"Good. I'll write soon, in the mean time, you have plenty of schoolwork to keep you occupied." At least, he smiles a weak smile.

"Yes, father. I am top of the class after all."

"Right you are," I stand, and straighten my jacket, taking a moment to peek at Rose out of the corner of my eyes. She is picking at her napkin, tearing it into small pieces.

_Hermione's POV-_

I cannot pull my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. Malfoy talks so softly to Scorpius, in a tone I've never heard uttered from his mouth. The way he speaks of me to Scorpius is almost enough to make me believe I am in some sort of a dream. Malfoy has never been respectful of me, of anything in relation to me. This couldn't have been a mistake. Perhaps he was right when he told me people change… But only time will tell.

Malfoy stands and is about to turn to leave, when he catches himself. He then does something that astounds me further. With a deep breath, obviously aware of his audience, his arms open and beckon Scorpius towards him. With a quick scoot of his chair, Scorpius is folded into a hug by his father. Now it isn't as though I've never seen a hug before. I've seen Ron hug Rose many times, and even seen Arthur trap Ron in a few himself. However, never, in my whole life, have I seen a Malfoy show so much compassion. They're a veiled family, one that does not wish to express feelings so visually.

He is still rude, stubborn, and arrogant, but at least someone has taught him to care.


	5. The Tapestry

_Draco's POV-_

Halfway across the cobblestone path, I cannot help but glance back. Granger stands at the door. Her frame is highlighted as the light from the hallway spills into the darkness. I can see Scorpius standing behind her, his face rigid. I give a smirk, hoping he understands that this has to be. Granger smiles back at me, lifting her hand in a slight wave.

The gate comes much too quickly. I open it slowly and step outside. As it closes, Granger's voice from nights before rings in my ear, _I will have wards placed on these grounds. You won't be able to visit without notice, for both of our sakes. _This is it then. No turning back. I hear the click as the door shuts behind me.

There is no point in waiting around here any longer. With a deep breath, I take my wand from inside my robes and close my eyes. I hear a 'pop' and feel myself being pulled off from where I stand.

Moments later, my feet hit solid ground again.

The Malfoy Manor taunts me as it towers over our well-kept lawn. Its thick grey pillars tell me I am not welcome. Scenes from the past, full of pain and disappointment, wash over me. Had I once called this place home? I glare at the balcony ahead, directly above our large front door; home sweet home.

I place my hand on one of the doors and it tingles at my touch. Within moments, it opens. The room is dark and quiet. After taking a few steps in, I shut the door behind me and look ahead.

It still looks as it did months before. The once extravagant furniture stands dusty and alone in the sitting room. The windows are curtained by thick sheets of emerald velvet. And of course, the chandelier is still missing; it had never been replaced. I glance upward and stare at the spot where it would have been. That night was one of many I wanted to forget. I walk over towards the window near the cellar's entrance. Its dark emerald curtain closes off our house of torture from the rest of the world. It had been my cover on that night, on all those hateful acts. I swallow, hearing the screams from years ago echo in the back of my mind.

My family was mental, and brought a new intensity to the word in general. But family, is family, isn't it? I was a part of them, and they were, sadly, a part of me, were they not? Would they have done the same to me, had I been in cohorts with Potter? I feel the curtain with my fingers, and glare towards the cellar door. "I was never given that choice." I mutter to myself. But the words taste sour, and I know they are a lie.

Angry with myself, with my family, with this house, I push the velvet fabric from my hands, and turn furiously. There was probably no one home. No noise had come from any of the rooms, not even the kitchens. Then again, who but the house-elf would be there? Slowly and quietly, I move up the staircase in the foyer. The white marble is cold to my touch, surprising for this time of year.

My feet move on their own and take me to a room I had never paid much attention to before. But I have to see it; just to be sure. The door is ajar slightly. Moonlight trickles into the hall, and I can see movement through the sliver of the door. I lift my wand higher, unsure of whom or what I may find. Gingerly, I push the door open. My eyes immediately fall on the blond hair sparkling in the center of the room.

She doesn't turn or jump when she hears the door creak. It is at that notion, I know whom I am staring at, and I lower my wand. She seems entranced at something on the back wall. Her hands clasped behind her back, as her head gazes at the large tapestry in front of her.

"Mum?" I say softly. She doesn't speak, but that is not something new to me. "What are you doing?" I ask, tentatively. Taking a few steps towards her, I cross my arms over my chest.

"Just checking," Her mouse-like voice replies back. "You've been gone for some time. I had to be sure. And, yet, here you are." She turns then, a faded smile on her face, to look at me.

"Have you been staring at that tapestry a lot lately?" I say, still several feet from her. Her eyes crinkle as she breathes in deeply.

"There is not much else for me to do."

"Has anything changed?" I ask, gesturing towards the wall behind her again. I know she understands the question.

She turns back around for a moment, scanning for Astoria's name on the wall next to mine. With another quick glance, she finds me again and shakes her head. "Everyone is fine."

"That is an overstatement." I mutter.

If she heard me, she ignores my response. "How is Scorpius? Does he like his new school?" Her eyes glitter at the thought. I can only nod. It isn't that it is difficult for me to lie to her. That part is easy. It is the fact that she can always tell when I am lying, and she doesn't need to master legilimens to do it. It's better if I don't say too much.

She smiles at me. "That is good. I'm glad you have found a place for him. I wasn't sure that sending him off would be a good idea; but anything is better than letting him stay here. Not with… the new developments." She adds the final words hesitantly and turns back towards the tapestry.

"Mum, where is father?" I question her, my voice turning cold. It doesn't intimidate her. Nothing has since the last time I stood in this house. I could not imagine anything would have happened in my absence to change that.

She sighs, placing a strand of hair behind her ear as she continues to look distractedly at the back wall. "He has a meeting to attend." She answers shortly.

"He's been attending a lot of meetings lately." She nods in response, so I continue and walk closer. "What are they planning? I know he must have told you."

She laughs then, quietly and under her breath. "Your father doesn't tell me anything anymore. You know that." She reaches her hand out and it grazes the picture directly below mine. Her lips form a smile as she touches the letters that make up his name: Scorpius.

"You have to have some idea…" I trail off as I stare at the picture near her hand. She was right; One of few, Astoria is still alive. "We've lost a lot of people, haven't we?"

When I change topic, my mother stiffens. We don't discuss the war, especially not the deaths we were forced to acknowledge. "Yes, we have." Her eyes move upward and to the right, no doubt ending on the picture of her sister. I look as well, my old aunt's face sneering at me, underneath a mess of black hair. Beneath her cheerful expression is the word _deceased_, written in elegant script.

My mother's expression changes into a deepening frown. She whispers words so quiet that I have to lean closer to hear. "He's doing what he believes is right, Draco. There is nothing we can do to stop him. He's lost too much."

I shake my head. "They've lost a lot too. More than we can ever imagine." She laughs again and I can feel my anger growing. "They didn't do this mum. It was the Dark Lord. You know this!" My emotion gets the best of me, and I see my mother shake her head and sigh again.

"Do you remember that final day? We sat waiting, just waiting, until that silly boy came straight to us. When I saw his face, all I could think of was where is my boy?" Her voice cracks but she continues. "He told me you were still alive, and I knew we would make through. We sat in that Great Hall with all of those blood traitors and mudbloods… we sat as equals. And then they ruin us."

"Mother-"

"Don't you try and defend them." She turns and points a finger at me. Her eyes are menacing. "They took all they could from us when the wizarding world was being "reconstructed". We lost more than lives; if they hadn't taken so much, this wouldn't have happened."

"I want to know where they are. They have Astoria, mum. They have my wife. I deserve know." I command, avoiding her snappish argument. She turns her head to the side, and stares into me.

"You don't need to know. I would prefer if you were kept out of this mess. We don't need any more loses, do we?" She says sweetly, as if she is talking to an eight year old. "Astoria will be back. She knows where she is needed."

"Funny, I would have thought her son took top priority." I say coolly.

"She loves that boy. Don't you say another word against her." She nods and adds for good measure, "She will return. Don't worry yourself about it."

(**)

_Hermione's POV-_

This is much more difficult than I had imagined. It had been only two days, and the feelings have not softened one bit. No one but Hugo spoke at dinner, and those were the only times the children were seen in the same room. Three children, from completely different backgrounds, in one house, for three months, how had I even dreamed this would end well?

During my morning rounds, I move through Scorpius' room swiftly. I learned very soon that my presence is not welcome in this area. Granted, I did put the roof over his head, but the boy is just as secretive as his father is. He was surprised, of course, that I would be the one to clean after him, and to know we did not have any house elves. Although they are treated much better nowadays, and would be _paid _in my house, I still cannot bring myself to have one. I keep the house just fine on my own I'd say; although Ron's views may differ.

My heart clenches as I grab at a shirt lying on the floor. What Ron would say if he saw me now, picking up after a Malfoy- after the boy he begged Rose to beat with higher marks. He would have grown into the idea eventually. Although, I couldn't be sure Malfoy would have called on our help had Ron still been here…

A clatter downstairs catches my attention, followed by a flutter of wings and a loud huff from Rose. She is still full of resentment, taking her anger out on Scorpius instead of me. But Scorpius can hold his own, that much Malfoy was right about. He is quiet, but very intelligent and cunning. Everything it takes to make a good Slytherin, I suppose. Rose has the Weasley temper, while Scorpius sits back and lets her finish her rant before saying something that infuriates her more, and walks away. He is much more brave than I would have given him credit for, being who his father is.

However, these arguments are rare seeing that Scorpius spends most of his time in his room, this room. I look around. The walls are bright orange. We had taken down the few Chudley Cannons posters that remained, but the paint had stayed, much to his dismay. His bed lay practically untouched. What he did up here was unbeknown to me. I hum to myself as I wander, picking up random articles of clothing; a shirt on the floor, a sock on the chair near his chess set. I smile as I gently place the fallen black queen upright in her place next to the king.

There is a half-eaten sandwich on his dresser and a glass of water sweating on his nightstand. I will never understand boys. How they can live with food and clothing scattered to the wind, I will never know. With a wave of my wand, the sandwich disappears. The clock downstairs chimes twelve times.

"Mum!" Rose calls up the stairs. "Mail's here. Aunt Ginny has written again!"

I close my eyes and bite my lip. "I'll be down in a minute." I shout back, wishing for more time. Writing Ginny has not been my top priority. I haven't the slightest idea of what to say. Her reaction to the situation scared me more than the prospect of Rose's had. She wouldn't see Scorpius as a little boy in need of some help. No, he would be the devil's spawn, the ferret's son.

But he was just a boy after all. And his father, well he isn't exactly a ferret anymore, is he?

I sigh, and plop down onto Scorpius' bed. I run my hands across the soft quilted blanket. Its patches full of color. The stitching is beautiful, wonderfully sewn together by Mrs. Weasley years ago. My eyes roam along the stitches, spotting a few that are beginning to fray and fall apart. I run my finger along one, folding down the thread near the head of the bed.

As I reach near his pillow, something catches my attention. The sunlight from the open window causes something to glimmer in a flash. It only takes a second and then it is gone. My eyes narrow, and I move my head to the side again, backing away slowly, and the flash of light appears again. Before I can help myself, I reach for his pillow, lifting it softly.

The end of the pillowcase falls, revealing a small silver frame. It is simple. No intricate details, no snake carvings or green shading. In fact, it looked much like the ones I have in the living room. Curious, I pull the frame towards me, and stare down at the startling photo.

A family of three looks back at me. Tall and recognizable anywhere, Draco Malfoy's bright blond hair matches that of his son's and many Malfoys before him. He stands with a hand behind his back and a stern look on his face. Scorpius, standing in front of him, glances at his father out of the corner of his eye. He straightens himself up as tall has he can go, trying again to mirror the man behind him. He continues this until a small hand squeezes his shoulder.

She is beautiful. Her brown hair falls gracefully onto her shoulders. She stands as tall and direct as her husband, but a smile plays on her lips. Her eyes stare ahead at me, but I can see it isn't the man who is taking the photo she's looking at, it's her son; a mother's gaze from the corner of her eye.

I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding. As the scene plays over again in front of my eyes, I feel my heart breaking. Is this what he does up here for hours on end? Does he sit here, staring at the family he longs to return to him?

"What are you doing?" A harsh voice comes from the doorway. I stand up quickly, setting the frame back onto his pillow. Before I can say a word, Scorpius speaks again. "That isn't yours."

His comment is cold and direct. He glares at me with grey eyes I've seen so many times before.

"Scorpius, I'm sorry. I was cleaning and I-" I begin.

He takes a deep breath, trying his best to compose himself. I can see his knuckles clenching at his side. He walks swiftly into the room and is standing in front of me within moments. "Excuse me." He says stiffly.

I step to one side, once again driven by curiosity. With laundry in my hands, I stare at him. He grabs the plain frame from atop his pillow, and tucks it safely back into where it came from. "I can pick up after myself."

I nod, waiting for steam to stream from his ears, or his face to turn red.

We stand there for a few moments, each wondering what the other will do or say. I want to say something, anything to make this stay better for him. But what do you say to a boy who's parents have suddenly vanished, without much explanation given?

"Scorpius—"

But he interrupts me. "Rose wanted me to find you. She needs you in the kitchen."

His silence is deafening. I simply nod again and turn to make my way out the door. I glance back quickly hoping to say I'm sorry once again, but he's not watching me. His back is turned, and his pillow sitting upward again. I know he's staring at his mom, wishing she was here instead of me.

For the first time that I could remember, a Malfoy and I actually agreed on something.

He's only a boy after all.


	6. The Infuriated

_Author's Note: Yes, I know I'm a horrible, horrible person. I'm so sorry this took so long! My last semester was crazier than I thought it would be, and well, I just had literally no time to write! I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's been a long time coming. I PROMISE to write more this summer. Thanks for reading!  
-_

Scorpius' gaze is set on his plate, his fork scraping against in it in a distasteful fashion. He hadn't bothered to look up since he had taken his seat, nor had he eaten more than a few bites. I couldn't hold it against him. He was clearly embarrassed and angry at my intrusion yesterday. Rose, however, had no knowledge of this reason, and found his silence both pleasant and maddening.

"Can you please stop with the scratching? If you don't like it, don't eat." She says matter-of-factly, setting her fork down at her side with force.

Scorpius glares at her from beneath his eyelashes. In one swift motion, he stabs a green bean with his fork and brings it quickly up to his mouth. He chews slowly, a sneer developing on his face. Without saying a word, his thoughts are clear.

With a roll of her eyes, Rose picks up her glass and takes a sip of water. "I would think you'd be a little more grateful. You know, we don't have to feed you."

"But he'd starve!" Hugo cuts in with a horrified expression. He turns towards Scorpius, his eyes serious, and lowers his voice to say, "I'd bring you bread and soup, even if Rose told me not to."

Although he hadn't been particularly pleasant to Rose or I, Scorpius seemed to have a soft spot for my youngest. This was obvious on a few occasions, now being one of them. Scorpius nods at Hugo and gives him a weak smile. "Thank you, Hugo. I doubt we'll come to that, but just in case, I am partial to French onion."

Hugo's face lights up with a large grin. Rose shakes her head in annoyance. Tired of the conversation, she turns her attention to me. "Mum, can we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow? Uncle George owled today, he has a new brand of candy for us to try."

I am still grinning at Hugo's reaction to Scorpius' praise when she asks. She catches me off guard. I have yet to tell anyone about Scorpius' stay here… To show up in Diagon Alley may not be the best idea. After all, no one is _supposed _to know he is here. "I don't know, Rose. We have cleaning to finish up, and I believe the three of you still have homework to attend."

"Uncle George? Oh please, mum!" Hugo joins ranks with his sister. His eyes are bright. Scorpius leans back against his chair and stares at scene in front of him. His eyes fall on me, awaiting my answer.

"We have all summer to finish homework. I've already done loads. Please, we haven't seen anyone in weeks!" Rose adds for good measure.

I fold my napkin in front of me, and shake my head. "You saw Albus and Lily last week. Maybe next week, we can plan a trip into town. It'll be beautiful outside tomorrow, you could practice Quidditch."

Rose looks dejected. But she knows the answer will not change. "With three people? Can I invite Albus over? Maybe Aunt Ginny could come too, and help you with the cleaning." She is testing me. I haven't spoke to Ginny since last week, unsure how to tell her about our new guest. Rose knows this, she's been trying to coax the truth out of me since the Malfoys arrived.

"I'm sure Ginny's busy with work. Another time, Rose. You'll have plenty to do tomorrow." I try not to meet her gaze. There was no need to make Scorpius feel more awkward than he already does. "Everyone finished?" I ask a little too brightly as I stand.

"Fine," She grumbles, and pushes her plate away from her. "I'll just spend the rest of the summer locked away from the world."

"Don't be so dramatic." Scorpius mutters under his breath. He is glaring at his plate as he pushes the beans angrily. "It'll only be until I'm gone."

There is no sourness in his voice, but Rose glares daggers at him. Her Weasley temper flares and she snaps back, "Can you tell me when that may be, if it happens at all? Your father left you here… what makes you think he even wants you back?"

Both Rose and my eyes widen when she finishes her thought. She swallows hard as if she wants to swallow the words back up. "Rose Weasley!" I chastise quickly. "You apologize. How dare you speak those lies."

"I-"

"It's fine." Scorpius says coldly. He stands and pushes in his chair with the same stiff politeness he's used the past few days. He doesn't look our way as he turns fiercely towards the stairs. His voice, however, loses all civility with the next utterance. "At least I have a father."

The looks on my children's faces break my heart. "Scorpius," I say sternly, but he continues his way up the staircase. For a moment, I wish to run after him and drag him back here to apologize. But I know that is not going to help the situation. He cannot say anything that will erase the glassy look in both my children's eyes. Instead, I throw down the towel I had grabbed and walk calmly towards them.

"He didn't mean that." I say softly. Hugo runs to me, and I crouch down to meet his hug. I hold him tightly with one arm and gesture to Rose with my other. But she doesn't take it. She sniffles twice, and takes a deep breath.

"Yes he did. He's a Malfoy, mum. Just like dad said. I told you." She shakes her head and steps forward to rustle Hugo's hair. "It's okay, Hugo. He's just jealous we had the best dad in the world."

Hugo snuggles closer to me. "He didn't mean it, Hugo. He misses his dad too." I whisper as I pull back. I give him a kiss on the forehead and look at Rose. "I think it's about time for bed, don't you? Why don't you two go get ready, and I'll be up to say goodnight soon?"

The two of them nod and start towards the stairs. Rose lets Hugo go first. She doesn't look at me even when I stand and follow them. I pat her back once at the top of the stairs, and veer off to the left, having to make one stop along the way to their rooms.

His door is open. With two steps, I am standing in his doorway, my hands on my hips.

"You will not speak to my children or me in such a way, Scorpius. Do you understand that? Rose should not have said what she said, I know. She knows. We have tried to make you feel as comfortable as we can. None of us deserve to be spoken to as such."

He is silent. His back to me, he stares out the bedroom window into the blackness of the night. I give him a few more moments to speak before I step into his room again. My arms cross in front me, and I say softly, "I know this is difficult. You don't know us, but this is the way it has to be, for now. Your father has done what he thinks is best."

"What's best is for me is to be with my family." He mumbles but still loud enough for me to hear. "I'm not comfortable here. I never will be."

"I hope that isn't the case, Scorpius. That is going lead to a very long summer. It would be best if we could be friends. It could be fun." I say with a smile.

He finally turns to face me, expressionless. "Like you and my dad were friends? Rose already told me all the stories. She says he never cared about anyone, and was always getting you into trouble."

My smile falters, and I take another step closer to him. "Scorpius, those were different times. Many of those stories were exaggerated by Rose's dad. I won't pretend that we were friends, because we were nowhere near that, but people do change. And I think your father is a… respectable man. He loves you very much."

"Maybe not. Maybe he's the same person from those stories… Maybe that's why he left me here. He's tired of me." His voice is steady, but he turns his back to me again, hiding his face.

"Never say that. You know that isn't true, Scorpius. The situation is much more complicated." I start, but he interrupts me abruptly.

"I would like to go to bed, so if you would please…" He trails off, swallowing.

"I can help you with your covers." I say, wishing to do something other than leave. I walk around to the other side of his bed, my hands outstretched towards the quilt. "Here."

He shakes his head quickly. Although I am standing straight across from him, he does his best to turn from me and grabs the blanket himself. "I can do it myself. I don't need to be tucked in. Just go, please."

He doesn't move to adjust his blankets, just stands still, clutching the quilt. I take in his small frame looking solemn and sad. I've seen it before, but never understood it like this. He tries too hard to build himself up, to show he is bigger than he is. "Goodnight, Scorpius. Tomorrow will be a brighter day, you'll see." I say my hand on the door, ready to pull it closed.

He folds the blanket over a few inches and whispers, "Sorry. For what I said before… It was rude."

I shrug, knowing he can't see it for his are still trained on the bed. "I'm not the one you have to apologize to, Scorpius. More feelings were hurt tonight than just mine. But tomorrow's another day to make amends. Goodnight."

(**)

I woke up this morning, still seated next to my old bedroom window. The sun had just begun to peek through the morning mist. I had rubbed my sore neck, and cursed myself for being foolish. I hadn't meant to fall asleep; my intention was to be awake as soon as Father arrived. Why else would I stay here even for one night? The plan proved to be worthless, for it is now nearly noon and he still hasn't returned.

I pace around my bedroom (as I have been for hours) letting thoughts race through my head. Was Granger right? Did I really have a plan? Could I do this alone? She had a lot of faith in her dear Potter. But something tells me he won't be as easily swayed into helping as she was. Would Potter want be willing to work with his old Hogwarts enemy? I scoff at the air. Of course, he would. Any opportunity for a photo, Potter would be the first in line. But would that bright celebrity status really be helpful?

No, Potter would not be a useful ally. He couldn't bring himself to understand the inner workings of these people's minds. He was the golden boy. He was part of the problem; after all, he helped reconstruct this new world.

A clang captures my attention and I stop in my tracks. I stare at the grey door several steps in front of me and wait for more noise. Nothing comes. Whatever it was, it came from down the hall. It sounded too close to be from the kitchens or the foyer…

It could be mother. She had locked herself in Father's study all morning. Her low mutterings had been what woke me. She had been talking to herself, doing random cleaning jobs I had expected, anything to make the time fly by faster. Lost in my thoughts, I almost miss the soft hoot that filters into the room. Could she be…?

As quietly as possible, I reach for the doorknob. It is cold in my hand when I grasp and turn it. The door does not make a sound. I inch out, light on my feet, ensuring that no noise disrupts my spying. Growing up, I had to be light on my feet. All the Malfoys were. We were masters are finding out information that wasn't meant for us, it was how we gained the power we had. Pure blood and blackmail-what a legacy we have created.

The door to the study is open, but only just so. There is no way for me to see exactly what made the noise from earlier, but a rustling of feathers gives me an idea. Mother hates owls surprisingly. She must be trying to give one a letter. It always takes her several tries before she gathers enough courage to get close enough to hand the parchment off. Our family owl was used to this, and wouldn't be upset by her tiresome ritual.

For some reason, Mother is using a strange owl to communicate with someone. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I push the door open dramatically with my foot. Mother jumps at the sound of the door hitting the wall. The sound also scares the dark brown owl next to the window. It hoots violently and lifts into the air.

"Draco! Never do that again. My, what has gotten into you?" She clutches her chest in fright, a sight I haven't seen in years. What doesn't she want me to see? My eyes narrow on a piece of rolled up parchment in her left hand. A name is scribbled on it, but no address.

"Who is that for?" I ask, knowing it is none of my business.

She clears her throat and lifts the letter higher into the air, as if begging the owl to grab hold of it. "No one in particular…" She trails off, her eyes tearing from mine and following the bird. She shakes the parchment again towards the bird. It understands her meaning and swoops near her to grab it in its claws.

It flies in another circle over our heads before exiting out the window. Mother breathes an audibly sigh of relief. I don't understand why until she speaks again a few moments later. "She only wanted to know how Scorpius was. She would have sent for you, but we both knew that wasn't a good idea."

As the realization of her words hits me, she sets to close the window. Within seconds, I am next to her, pulling her hands away from the lock. They are cold to my touch, but I shake that from my thoughts and push the window open again. Frantically, I search the sky. The bird is gone.

I snap, "Are you telling me… Astoria- my wife- has been writing you?"

Mother steps back from me and clasps her hands together in front of her. She doesn't respond to my angry tone or glare. Instead, her eyes are blank and she nods. "She has to receive news somehow."

"And her husband isn't good enough?" Words rush out of my mouth in fury. I don't know what to do. I stand still, my hands clenched at my sides. "If she is free to write, then she is free to come home. Why would she need to write you if she can come see for herself!"

Mother looks at me oddly, as if she's concerned with my well-being, instead of that of my wife, who's Merlin only knows where. "I told you, she knows where she is needed. She'll be back when she believes it's time. Until then, there isn't much any of us can do about it."

"Of course there is. I can tell her to-"

"She does not wish to speak with you." Mother replies shortly, her gaze no longer on me. Instead, she walks towards the desk and begins straightening the contents atop it.

"She knows I'm right. She's just scared I'll change her mind. Where did you send the letter? Where is she?" I ask, almost pleading. I hate hearing the strangled tone behind my words.

Mother frowns, but still does not meet my gaze. "Of course she's scared. But her loyalty runs deep, Draco. She will not let you take that from her. Please, stop this."

(**)

Hermione had been right. The next morning was beautiful. The sun shone against the back garden where Scorpius and Hugo quickly dispersed. Hugo hadn't been on the ground for very long before he grabbed his broom and pushed off into the sky. Scorpius sat as far from the back door as he could under a large tree. With a book in his hand, he hadn't looked up in quite a while. The warm air blew gently across his face as he read; only occasionally was he brought back to reality at the whooshing sound of Hugo's flying.

Scorpius had been told he got his love of books from his father. It wasn't the fantasy of the stories, or the escape they brought, but rather the intense quantity of knowledge that could be packed in one simple page. Back at home, he had a library full of books he had planned to start on this summer… He was only able to bring a few here with him. Excitement had filled him when Rose brought up Diagon Alley at dinner last night; he was due for a trip to Flourish and Blotts, but that was out of the question, especially now.

No one had spoken a word to him since his outburst in the kitchen late last night. Rose glared at him every chance she got and had decided she'd rather stay inside than be anywhere near him today. She had made a large scene when her equally annoying cousin, Albus, had showed up earlier in the day. She stated that no amount of sunshine could coax her within 10 feet of him; which was fine by Scorpius. He would much rather be alone anyway.

Although he wasn't ever really alone. While Hugo hadn't spoken a word to him, he had chosen to continue to follow him around. They never sat closer than a few feet, but Scorpius could always feel the younger boy's eyes on him. Scorpius wasn't sure why anyone would want to be near him now. What he had said was horrible, he knew it, but it just came out. Normally he could control his thoughts, but this family… acting as though everything was okay, got to him.

Half mesmerized in his thoughts, Scorpius didn't notice Hugo's close proximity. The boy had slowed himself so he was hovering only a few feet above the boy dressed in black. "What are you reading?" He says cautiously.

Scorpius jumps at the intrusion, his book falling away at his side. "What?" He says uncharacteristically caught off guard.

"You must really like it, the book I mean." Catching Scorpius' confused expression, Hugo continues. "To rather read than fly… it must be a good book. Unless… you like flying don't you?"

Scorpius rolls his eyes at this. "Of course, only one problem: to fly, I need a broom." Scorpius adjusts his seating and grabs his book quickly, using his knees as a makeshift desk.

"Oh," Hugo mumbles. He looks at the sky as if questioning this. A few moments pass before his feet touch the ground gently beside the large tree. "Well then, you can use mine." He held his broom out in front of him, gesturing for the blond boy to take it.

Scorpius shakes his head. "No, it's yours. Go ahead."

"You have to miss it. I would if I was you. Here," His arm stretches out, sticking a pitch black, only slightly scuffed, Stargaze 100 model in front of Scorpius' face; disrupting his view of the book in his lap. Normally, this type of act was ill advised with Scorpius, however the sight of the Stargaze cleared his mind completely.

"What is that?"

A huge grin spreads across Hugo's face at the sound of awe in the older boy's voice. He pulls the broom back to admire it. "A Stargaze 100. Got it for my birthday from Uncle George."

Scorpius stares at the broom for a moment, unable to believe its presence in front of him, in a Weasley house no less. His father promised he would get at least an Orbit 260 for his birthday. He was still stuck with a Firebolt at home. It worked all right, but could never match the Stargaze in speed. "It's yours?"

"Yeah, it's faster than Mum originally thought. She gets kind of nervous when I ride. She always hated flying… Mental, I know. Dad always joked with her about it. He loved to fly." Hugo falters slightly as his rambling takes in to uncomfortable territory.

Scorpius takes a deep breath, closing his book and sitting up straighter. Unsure what to say, he pulls at a blade of grass near his shoe.

"He was a Keeper." Hugo continues. "Pretty good too, I guess."

"Yeah?" Scorpius says quietly, only to fill the long pause that was growing.

"Yeah, he taught Rose a lot. She's trying out next year. Second years are allowed brooms, so I bet she'll be begging me for this one." He adds, holding the broom closer to him.

Scorpius smirks at this. "Better not give it to her. It'd be nice if Slytherin had a fighting chance this time around. If she's as good as I've heard she won't need your broom anyway. Especially if she knows I'm on the field."

Hugo looks up at this. "You're on the team?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Going to be. Not sure what position. Chaser and Seeker are open."

"Rose'll hate that."

"I know, she hates me. That's what will make it so fun." Scorpius says with another smirk, plucking a blade of grass from the ground and rolling it between his fingers. "She has good reason to though. I know my family's history. Sadly it isn't as clean as yours."

Several seconds of silence pass before Hugo takes another step forward and nudges the Stargaze 100 towards Scorpius. "She doesn't hate you. And your family isn't all bad. Your dad seemed nice…"

"She does. And he is. Mostly." Pulling off from the ground, Scorpius stands up. He brushes the excess dirt and grass from his pants before grabbing hold of the Stargaze. "I'm sure yours was too. You're lucky. Thanks."

(**)

"Boys!" Rose huffs from her bedroom window. She had been watching the scene between Hugo and Scorpius play out in front of her for several minutes. As each second ticked by, she grew more and more angry. "Why is Hugo being so stupid? Malfoy's just manipulating him. This is ridiculous." She complains to the boy sitting on her floor.

An Exploding Snap game sprawled out before him Albus sighs and rolls his eyes. "I think you're being a little dramatic. He can't be that bad."

Rose glares at her cousin closing the space between them and plopping herself on the ground across from him. "You weren't there. He's exactly like Dad always said he'd be. Horrible and emotionless."

"When did your dad ever say that?"

"Well, he didn't have to say it. I know it's what he meant, telling us all those stories. I can't believe Mum's letting it happen." Rose exclaims, falling back against the chest at the end of her bed. "Can't you get your mum to say something to her?"

Looking unconvinced, Albus takes his turn on the board. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't think my mum even knows about Scorpius. I'm sure it'd be the talk of the house. She didn't even mention it when I Floo over." Silence fills the room as he completes his turn. Feeling something is wrong, he glances up out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"I knew it! I knew she knew she was wrong. That's why she hasn't told Ginny. She tells Ginny _everything_." Rose mutters quietly to herself, Albus looking confused nearby. "That's the only way to get this taken care of; your mum has to know. She's the only one my mum will listen to. Here," As if suddenly remembering she had someone in the room, Rose jumps up and snatches a piece of paper form her desk. "Owl your mum. Tell her she needs to come get you and that my mum needs to talk with her."

Albus freezes as the paper and quill are tossed his way. He stares at them for several seconds. "I don't know. It seems a little mean, springing it on Aunt Hermione. I'm sure she'll tell my mum soon. It's not as though she can keep it a secret."

"She's been avoiding it ever since _he _got here. If we want him gone. We have to make it happen." Rose rushes.

"And _we _want to make it happen? Honestly Rose, he can't be-"

"But he is!" She interrupts, throwing her hands on her hips. "Please, Albus, write."


End file.
